


Pocha pocha

by Anonymous



Series: po-pocha [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Angst, Animal Transformation, Fluff, Furry, M/M, Macro/Micro, Sanrio collab, Smut, Voltage Verse, fisting with claws, voltageverse, voltageverse elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Witches, curses, transformations, glowing appendages.No more walks in the wood.





	Pocha pocha

Viktor could never remember being so happy. He lived a charmed life with the perfect dog, the perfect man and in the perfect city. Even his apartment, previously cold and unwelcoming had been infinitely improved when Yuuri came to live with him, He came with little touches that instantly warmed the space he occupied – family photos to make up for the gaps on Viktor’s walls, a spice rack and a cupboard full of rice and pulses to replicate some of his more adventurous college meals and the socks that a sleepy Yuuri could never quite coordinate into the laundry bin and instead used to decorate the floor of the bathroom. Every little foible and illogical habit only made his love burn brighter, even though he couldn’t possibly articulate why Yuuri drinking straight from the milk carton seemed impossibly cute to him, even though for anyone else he would be disgusted beyond words. He would sometimes catch himself mid-swoon and question his own motives, but then Yuuri would smile at him and nothing else would seem so important after that.

They had been living in St. Petersburg for almost two months now, and were just beginning to warm up into the new season after their break – the most blissful honeymoon period of relaxation, holidaying and visiting, even if Viktor’s favorite memories from the time were being cuddled on their newly-shared couch in his room in Yu-topia, sharing a bottle of wine and talking about nothing into the small hours of the morning. 

He tried explaining this to Yuuri once, who replied with “you’re getting soppy in your old age, Vitya”, although the shoulder bump that accompanied this and the deep red blush that spread across his cheeks gave him the sneaking suspicion that he was not alone in the feeling. It’s another little jewel of information that he collects and stores with all the others in his heart.

Maybe Yuuri is turning into an old sop. He was always a hopeless romantic, maybe being hopelessly in love would only be detrimental to him, but there was no part of him that could even begin to regret a moment. They had been through their trials – Viktor’s in China and Yuuri’s in Spain – and they had come through both only stronger.

As the season began to creep into view they made a conscious effort to try and prepare. Gym visits became more intensive and days became quieter as their minds turned to their programs, and much to Viktor’s mixed horror and pride the hard-won softness to the edges of Yuuri’s body that he so loved squishing himself into started to diminish and then disappear while he was both powerless to intervene and professionally motivated to help it on its way as Yuuri came off his more relaxed diet and back onto the harshness of his competitive regime. (This also came with a gradual souring of Yuuri’s mood as he had more ingredients ticked off his list of allowable ingredients, and Viktor could only be silently grateful that he didn’t have the ghost of Hiroko’s cooking haunting his dishes so strongly now that they had left Japan behind.)

They also started taking up more energetic hobbies than Yuuri and his Monster Hunter, or Viktor and his library of classics. There was skiing, hill-climbing, a brief excursion into rock-climbing until Yuuri remembered the fear of heights he had battled on his way down from Hasetsu castle and they drew that adventure to a swift close. 

They take well to rambling in the countryside, taking solace in the solitude and, particularly, being alone together. There is a quiet peace to simply walking together, the only sounds in the thick forests and rough farm paths that of each other breathing against a faint background of birdsong, Makkachin galloping off into the distance. The countryside isn’t stunning, and he misses the mountains of Japan, but he grows steadily more attached. 

It is serene.

Viktor has been alone for a lot of his life, but being alone with Yuuri is a completely different experience that he is wildly addicted to, and it makes him plan routes and buy new outdoors-wear, and even for a madness-driven moment consider a second car for his one parking spot so he could have an SUV for the rough roads rather than the temporary hires they had been using. (Selling the Cadillac was never an option.)

And so, Viktor and Yuuri found themselves on bleak Saturday briskly trekking through a twisty path in woodland a good way out from their home. They hadn’t seen anyone on the way out from where they had left their rental by the side of a backroad near Leninskoye, not even the occasional hiker or dog walker that they had come to expect. There was a chill in the air as they marched in silence, Yuuri pulling his windbreaker closer in as he held himself against the wind. 

The chill only burrowed deeper into all three of them as the descended through the shallow valley they found themselves in, and the realization grew slowly into their bones that they were not sure anymore where they were. The trees were diffuse enough to expose them to the elements, but tall and branched enough to obscure what few landmarks they could hope for and they should have forded several streams by now that there was no sight of. Even Makkachin slowed to a gentle walk from the gleeful circular bounding she had employed earlier in the walk, and they all slowly drew in towards each other. The trees were thin and spindly in this area, providing little shelter as they walked on, the path becoming rocky and overgrown with shrubs and creepers until there was only room to move in single file, boots crunching in the thin layer of snow. 

Makkachin is back on her lead to better navigate her through the occasional thicket of thorn-laden gorse, after having caused a nasty incident chasing a rabbit into the middle of a bush that required a lot of love, patience and dexterity to remove her from. Viktor felt the leash begin to fall slack as she huddled closer, and gave her a heartening rub to her shoulders.

“Do you think we should go back?” he heard Yuuri call from behind him, the wind whipping away most of the sounds but the look of worry on his face when he looks back in unmistakable. 

“Let’s give it another kilometer or so,” he called back. “We should be out into grassland soon as we meet the riverbed, the path will get better then and we can get a better idea of where exactly we are, plan a shortcut back.” He was very confident in his map-reading skills under normal circumstances but there was something in the way the land was sloping, the speed at which the vegetation had changed in such a short stretch from the car that had him unsettled. 

“Okay, sure,” says Yuuri, only the slightest edge of a tremor from cold seeping into the edge of his voice.

There, behind a rock formation, he could just about see through the trees poked the stern, stout stump of a chimney. 

“Ah!” cried Viktor as he turned around to face Yuuri, the dry slap of the back of his hand hitting his (modest) forehead ringing throughout the forest, “A safe haven! Perchance they will take pity on these poor world-weary travelers and show us a secret route back that takes but the blink of an eye!”

Yuuri was having none of it.

“You’re such a drama queen, Vitya,” Yuuri sighed. “It’s probably some abandoned hunting lodge and there will be nothing but a locked door to welcome us.” The obvious exasperation was sweetened with fondness, and he quickened his pace regardless to be only a half-pace behind, as close as the narrow trail could allow.

“I am no such thing!” Viktor replied. He tried to sound put out, but they both knew that Yuuri knew him too well to have got him wrong.

The chimney was free of smoke and the windows were dark as they neared the little wooden cabin, both their hearts sinking at the prospect of just turning tail and going back on themselves. Makkachin gave a sorrowful whine that seemed far too loud in the quiet of the trees, exacerbating the emptiness all around them. 

Viktor bounded up to the dusty window with the last of his enthusiasm and put his face up to the glass, eyes shielded from the glare and reflections. There was almost nothing to be seen through the smudges and scratches, no matter how much he narrowed his eyes and willed himself to see. There was a sudden movement in his periphery and he felt a thin tickle to the side of his hand. He jumped back with all the speed and distance his honed body could muster, flinging the spider to the moon with any luck. He was unfortunately far too slow to stop the escape of the hideously high-pitched shriek that was also startled from him, and immediately clasped his hands to his mouth in horror at his overblown reaction. 

Looking to his side he saw that Yuuri was in a similar position, although his was to keep in the barely controlled laughter that shook his whole body. A blush to match Viktor’s was creeping across his cheeks and down the back of his neck, down past the scarf where Viktor, unfortunately, couldn’t follow. 

Not here in the open at any rate.

He schooled himself as well as he could, and only looked a little peaked when he finally strolled – far more casually than his original approach – up to the door and gave three solid, steady knocks. There was no sound from inside, and no movement to be seen through the windows as the silence stretched from where they stood into the pines. The only sound Viktor could hear was the snuffling snorts of his Yuuri beside him as he wrung the last of his amusement from Viktor’s discomfort, and he caught the merest suggestion of a whisper, _…ma queen_ , on the breeze. Indignation shivered up his spine but he restrained himself from any retort. 

Karma would always provide, and soon it would be his little piggy’s turn to be in the hot seat.

He broke the silence with another trio of raps to the door, tapping his foot anxiously as he waited for a response, but again, none came.

“I think it might be abandoned like you thought, Yuuri,” Viktor called over his shoulder. “Maybe it’s for people who get lost walking like us?”

Yuuri’s expression was fond but tired. “You saw the path, Vitya. Nobody else is stupid enough to be walking out here except for us.”

Viktor listened, turned the information over in his mind and then concluded that Yuuri was right, as was often the case. And then he chose to ignore it just as Yuuri so often did to him.

“Regardless!” he trilled, trying the handle in a trice with so much energy that even he was surprised when his momentum pushed him through the unlocked door and into the room, both letting out simultaneous exclamations of shock.

Viktor recovered first and was soon scanning about the little shack, tacking in as much as he could through his excitement.

“It’s so bare in here! Looks like nobody lives here, maybe it’s a ranger thing or something. Come on in, Yuuri, let’s look around for a map! Maybe it will say where we are and we can get back to being all huddled up under the blankets with Makkachin sooner!”

The house…shack…room? was tiny, walls of wooden planks with peeling polish and an ancient paved floor marbled with cracks and stains. Light struggled to fill the space from the two tiny windows on opposite sides and dust hung thick in it, dancing in the gloom in clouds thick enough to almost bring Viktor to the edge of sneezing but not over the edge. There was a kitchen counter with a sink and one tiny cabinet, a table and one chair and a simple wooden cot pushed into one corner. There wasn’t a singular personal possession to be seen, but no obvious official capacity either in a way that made his skin uneasy. He set to work rummaging through the kitchen drawers in the hope of finding some paperwork.

Yuuri was still loitering by the door, scratching the top of his foot against the back of his calf and worrying his lip in two of his many, many nervous gestures. He takes one small and unsure step forward and then two until he is on the threshold where he stops again. Viktor watched from the corner of his eye as Yuuri steeled himself and finally stepped over, smiling to himself at both his own victory in persuasion and Yuuri’s boldness overtaking his sensible side again. It was a beautiful thing to see, and he was blessed with seeing it more and more often these days. 

Before Yuuri could get too far into the hut he was stopped short, mid-stride as the leash pulled taut.

Makkachin was standing firm in the doorway, her claws stuck firm into the timber and her entire body rippled with tension. Both her humans whipped around to face her, jaws dropping loose when she let out a rumbling growl, the first they could ever remember hearing. Yuuri tried a few gentle tugs on her lead to goad her inside but she only pulled back harder, pulling hard enough to take a few steps and make Yuuri stumble in his shock. Viktor was heading back over to her in a heartbeat, tripping over the edge of a flagstone in his hurry.

They knelt to her together, fingers threading through her dense curls to try to find if she was injured or just needed calming. Yuuri made shushing noises while Viktor asked started a frantic line of questioning directed at his dog, who stayed completely at attention, the growl staying low in her ribcage.

They were so wrapped up in making sure that Makkachin was all right that they failed to notice the figure who crept up behind them, soundless and slight in the dim light. It was upon them at lightning speed, pushing them full-force out of the building and into the grey twilight of the shaded clearing with a shrill scream that rattled in their bones. 

They fell onto Makkachin with startled yelps, who immediately started barking and baring her teeth at the shadow, who replied with a growl of its own. Viktor scrambled to flip himself over and crawl backwards, but the armful of angry poodle he had latched onto refused to move with him. He could feel Yuuri shocked into stillness on the other side of Makkachin, not daring to make a move. His eyes flicked from his dog to his aggressor and he felt his throat go dry at the vision of anger before him. 

She was old, much older than he had ever seen someone before, the lines on her face severe in the half-shadow she stood in, and thin to the point of emaciation. The expression she wore was one of mortal hatred, exaggerated into a theatrical mask as she towered over them, heaving huge breaths. Her hair, pure white even in the darkness, flowed around her head, Medusa’s halo. He would never be able to tell what she had been wearing or how she held herself, for his attention was glued to the eyes in front of him, boring into his soul with irises far too pale and pupils far too wide. 

Then, she began to scream. 

There were words that he couldn’t make out woven into the scream, he could hear the syllables as they wormed through his gray matter and into the white, piercing sharp and burning as they went. She screamed endlessly, none of her words understandable but meaning clear and settling over him as a suffocating weight in his lungs.

Makkachin startled in his embrace and she stopped in her tirade, her voice changing to one of a melodic chant. Viktor found himself shifting his intense focus to an arm that rose from her hip, hovering with outstretched fingers over him like a beatific deity before moving over Yuuri, who he could see had turned the palest white.

Then she was shouting again without warning but now they were up and running, Makkachin pulling ahead of them as they stumbled and tripped through nettles and gorse heedless of their dangers in their eagerness to be free of the place. 

Her voice followed them, never dimming, staying as though she were still only a foot or so from them as she continued her malediction, ears ringing. Viktor tried to cover an ear with a hand, but the volume remained the same, the fear only twisting deeper into his gut. 

“Do you think it’s following us?” he heard Yuuri call from next to him, and looked over to see terror writ plain on his face, staring ahead with flickers over to him, mouth thin and eyes too wide,

All Viktor could think of was sitting in church as a child and hearing the tales of burning cities and unimaginable horrors, of Lot watching his wife turn to stone for the curiosity of what lay behind her as he yelled back, “don’t look, for fuck’s sake please don’t look back!” Yuuri stiffened as he ran, body firmly turned to the path ahead and Viktor allowed himself the smallest amount of relief.

The volume increased around them until they could feel the vibrations echo through him, and Viktor could see Yuuri’s lips move but couldn’t make out any of the words through the noise in his head. 

The onslaught of words broke then, and boomed through the forest the words;

“Viktor. 

Yuuri.”

Then all was silent, save for the ringing in his ears and the crush of the forest to make way for their escape. 

Viktor found Yuuri’s eyes, straining with terror like his own must have been, and wordlessly they reached for each other, holding hands as they bolted. They ran for miles until their lungs burned and muscles burned, never daring to slow down for fear of what lay behind them. Finally, they broke into a familiar clearing and were met with the incredibly welcome sight of their rental, perched by the side of the road innocently as though they hadn’t just escaped the jaws of death. Viktor opened the boot for Makkachin, uncaring of mud, then Yuuri and he piled in and they were gone, tearing away along the track and back to the road in a spray of dust and roar of revving.

They sat in silence for the longest time. The shock still loomed large in the car, dwarfing them in the tight space. There weren’t words for what had just happened.

Then Yuuri laughed. It was small at the beginning, a small and nervous thing, but grew in time to be incredulous and then raucous, and Viktor found himself carried along with it until they were both laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces as Makkachin howled along behind them, It was freeing, cleansing. Whatever it was that they had stumbled into hadn’t won, and they had got away. It felt as though they had faced death and come out the other side, and the relief was total. They pulled in to a grubby garage for a while as the laughter subsided and simply sat, holding hands as they breathed together and got their heart rates back under control enough to be safe driving. 

By the time they got home the sun was dimming as it sank behind the skyline, and all three were exhausted by the time they dragged themselves up to Viktor’s inner-city apartment. The adrenaline long gone, they were sustained purely by obstinacy and a severe longing for downy beds. Makkachin fed, Viktor and Yuuri watered, they all trudged into their beds and were gone within minutes. 

__________

Viktor awoke with a start and the innate knowledge that it was late in the morning and far past the time they were supposed to wake up, and the instinctual knowledge that he didn’t care. He felt fur shift against the inside of his elbow as he rested against the warm body beside him.

“Mmm, morning Makka,” he drawled, still shaking the last of the grogginess from his mind. “Did we leave the bedroom door open last night?”

The fur moved again and Viktor wriggled around in the covers to card fingers through her curls. He was immediately awake, eyes wide and straining in the twilight of their curtained bedroom when his fingers met instead with something unfamiliar. Where Makkachin had long fur in thick, coarse coils he was mid-stroke on a ribcage that was smaller, with shorter, straighter and softer hair. How on earth had a stray got into their apartment without notice, especially from the other animal in the house?

He couldn’t see well in the half-light but he could make out the rough outline of a black mass next to him, too tiny for the top of Yuuri’s head. He started again, desperately scanning around for his fiancé but finding no trace. Panic rose, thick and acrid, in his throat as he pulled the sheet back from the form beside him. The dread weighed in his soul as the more he revealed – black hair, smooth human skin – the more his mind conjured memories of the Godfather, of stories of freak animal attacks and the more his hand shook. When he had pulled back enough to see a face in the gloom he almost dropped the sheet in his fright.

In front of him lay the sleeping face of his beloved Yuuri, but he had changed in the night in ways that Viktor could scarcely comprehend. He had shrunk in the night, face rounder than Viktor had ever seen even when he had rescued him from his doldrums in Yu-topia – not childlike but compressed Yuuri, a palm wide across his face with eyes too large for his face, eyelashes long against his cheeks in his sleep. 

It didn’t make any sense. His sleeping beauty was lying there beside him and yet was also horribly unfamiliar.

There was nothing he could do but continue this slow reveal, the pressure building in the atmosphere and in his brain. 

Peeling back the layers he was greeted with the furry side that he had initially encountered, and he could only hold his breath as it came fully into view. He glanced to the bedside light briefly, considering his options and whether the light would waken this thing, this pseudo-Yuuri and the nightmare would continue into a new phase, but his curiosity won over his trepidation and he flicked the switch, flooding the bed in a soft light.

There it was, laid out before him in all its chimeric glory. 

_Head, thought to belong to one Katsuki Yuuri, upon the non-pertinent body of a dog of uncertain breed in white fur._

Viktor shut down for a few seconds, before returning to himself with dry wheezes and dry stares before he dropped his handfuls of sheet and scrambled backwards off the bed as fast as his limbs could crab him. He clattered to the floor noisily, only aware of the noise in his head and uncaring of waking whatever had replaced his Yuuri, only aware that everything was wrong and he was ill-equipped to face it.

He watched as the figure stirred, watched the shadows lengthen as it sat up on the bed and turned towards him, his heart dropping inside his chest.

The dog-Yuuri-thing blinked in the brightness of the lamp and went to rub its eyes, then froze in place with a paw to its face. It blinked, stared at the paw, blinked again and turned to Viktor, an expression of horror etched plainly on its scrunched face.

“Pocha? Pocha-po, cha po!” it said, voice quivering as it looked back at its paw where it stayed held aloft, the fear palpable in every muscle. The paw flew to its throat and pressed, a quiet “po?” escaping before both paws were over its mouth to silence itself.

And then Viktor knew. 

This was no transplantation, it was a transformation. The unnatural dog-person before him was Yuuri, changed and re-molded while they slept; he was pretty certain that he was no longer dreaming – had bitten his lip and felt blood – but if he was he would consider it a mercy. The scream from the day echoed in his mind as Yuuri’s name slipped from his lips in a whisper and he heard an echoing whine that near shattered his heart. He had never been particularly devout in any particular direction but was rapidly 

He held still a few moments, baited breath, waiting for Yuuri to do something, say something, magically transform back to how he should be, then he was moving. He pulled himself back onto the bed in one mighty bound and was in front of the new Yuuri in seconds, hands hovering futilely in the air above him as he tried to puzzle out the best way through this new development. 

He could see the same dawning horror and fear beginning to swamp Yuuri, who shuddered in place before stumbling towards him, his arms outstretched. His feet tangle on each other as he attempted a waddle, feet far larger than he was ever used to, and he stumbled onto all fours halfway across the short span of bed, awkwardly levering himself back up to look at his paws again, the terror now tinged with frustration, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks.

Yuuri dropped his paws to reach for Viktor and found his knee, huddling into it as he repeated a mantra of _pocha_. Viktor finally settled for stroking Yuuri’s head, focusing on the human he could recognize and not the unfamiliar animal half he still struggled with. Right now Yuuri needed him, no matter what form he was in, and he could deal with the hows and whys and fixes later.

He stroked Yuuri’s hair in long, regular strokes, listening to small and sniffly “po” noises coming from the little body and tried to take stock of the situation. 

The scary old lady got angry in the woods, cast some ungodly curse, and now Yuuri has a dog body. 

Simple.

Sure. 

Should they go back to her house? They were resoundingly lost when they had found it initially and there was no telling whether they would ever be able to find it again – especially if they factored in the fact that the hag was apparently magical and could probably hide after being so surprised. 

Would it wear off after time? How long does one leave one’s significant other in a state of zoomorphism before accepting that no divine relief shall ever come?

Was this a fairytale working itself out in modern times?

On a whim, he picked Yuuri up and gave him a quick peck on the lips. His body was so light, and the fur felt so alien under his fingers, but Yuuri blushed and wriggled when he was surprised just like he remembered. 

He set him down, waiting for a flash of light and fantastical reappearance of Yuuri as a human but nothing happened. All that he got was a long silence as Yuuri dried his tears and Viktor stared woefully at him, hoping against hope in the promise of true love’s kiss and growing more disappointed in each passing second as nothing happened.

Eventually, Yuuri looked up at him with his larger-than-life doe eyes and Viktor held a hand out to take a paw, carefully turning it over and back in a quiet, reflective examination. 

“We won’t be able to tell anyone about this, would we? Even if they believed us you’d be a test subject.” He surprised himself with how small his voice came out.

“Po.” Yuuri’s response was resolute; glowing eyes glaring up and a firm shake of his head. It was so like his Yuuri he couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face.

“Do you feel okay? You’re not in pain, are you?”

Yuuri shook another ‘no’, eyes downcast. Viktor breathed a sigh of relief.

“Any ideas?” he tried but was met with the same shake. 

“I don’t know what we should do, Yuu. Do we wait it out? Go back to the house and hope we don’t make it worse?” He hated the idea of doing nothing, the uncertainty, but what were his options? A doctor? Veterinarian? Local witch doctor? If they went back he was relatively certain that he would be the next one in the wrong body and then they’d be all out of luck for hiding this from anyone else while they sorted it out. He was faced with the love of his life suddenly transformed into the body of a dog. All the movie plots he had ever seen about poor defenseless aliens and genetic fuckups escaping the grasping talons of squadrons of evil military scientists played in one long celluloid reel through his brain and cold panic slowly seep through his mind to muddy his thoughts and squeeze his chest tight.

From the confused, distraught look he got in return, it seemed as though they were both equally lost.

He picked Yuuri up again, gentle with his hands under his shoulders as he arranged him onto his lap to cuddle close. He didn’t try to hush Yuuri’s whimpers as they shook together, and soon enough Viktor too was crying, quiet and empty, absently watching the tears be absorbed in the fur of Yuuri’s bare back to stain it dark and damp. 

The sun rose higher, Makkachin scratched at the door, but still, they hadn’t moved far, only slumping down further into the sheets as they clutched each other close. Eventually, they fell back into a doze, the emotional toll too great for them to want to face.

When Viktor awoke this time, it was to the memories of the most horrific and life-like dream he could ever remember. He blinked himself awake slowly and clawed towards where his phone should be so he could check the time. Far too late. He didn’t care.

There was a blur of black hair nestled in the sheet next to him and a warm smile eased into him as he redirected his arm to loop over the sleeping body on its way back.

His arm slipped between the sheets and over silky hair to meet short silky fur in a retread of his nightmare, snapping him awake and forcing him upright in a blink, the force jolting Yuuri awake beside him who simply looked at his paw, held it in front of himself for three long, silent seconds before letting out a slow and world-wearing whisper of _chaaa_ …

His dog-fiancé wriggled over to face him and scooted close to give him a heartbreakingly tender Eskimo kiss. His expression when he pulled back into the light and Viktor could focus again was soft, apologetic. It’s all that Viktor can do to try and paste on his most reassuring smile and hope that he can convince himself. 

Viktor dragged himself out of bed against the crushing despair that he remained swaddled in, sliding into the living room through the tiniest crack so Makkachin didn’t press her way and enthusiastically try to make friends with a new semi-canine friend. There is a display case just off the hall that holds some of their favorite stuffed animals thrown onto the ice after their competitions, and there it is – up on the top shelf – a little black bear that is about the right size for the body Yuuri has now, clad in a turquoise hooded sweater with a light blue ‘Y’ on the front and a little white hat with tiny face and floppy black ears. Yuuri’s first competition among Seniors, if he remembers right. It’s a stretch but eventually, his fingertips scratched at the bottom of a nylon foot and the bear tumbled from the shelf into Viktor’s arms.

There was a stitch to snip to free the hat, and then he peeled back the hoodie a little to try and ascertain whether it was stitched to the body and seeing that it wasn’t, stretched it carefully over the bear’s bulbous head.

He strode back to the bedroom, trophy in hand, tiptoed around his still very enthusiastic dog and left the hoodie next to where Yuuri was washing his face in the en-suite sink, being very careful not to topple in, then pulled the curtains over to let the light in.

Viktor found himself dazzled by how ordinary the room looked in the light of day for having been the site of such supernatural happenings. It seemed as though there should have been more evidence of it lying around. 

Spooky wisps of fog, maybe.

Glitter in the air.

A big fat rainbow right over the bed.

There was a call of _Po-cha_? from next door and he hurried back in. There he was, recognizable Yuuri face on a body that was rubbed to fluffiness, round and squat on stubby legs and squeezed into the familiar blue hoodie. 

“You okay? Does it fit or do we need to go out and get something else? You’ll just have to do without your glasses, I’m afraid.”

He was looking up through nerves, biting his bottom lip and flicking his gaze away as he shook his head, hands tucked behind his back. Viktor swept across the tiles to him, scooping him up to hold him gathered in the crook of his elbow so they were at eye level again. He returned Yuuri’s Eskimo kiss from before and took heart in the blush that covered the top of his cheekbones before his eyes narrowed into a side-eye and he got a bat to the nose from a leathery paw pad.

At least now he could be certain it was still his Yuuri in there.

Getting out of the room turned into a complicated dance of hopscotch to get around Makkachin, who bounced up as high as she could in her curiosity. Once they were safely in the living room Viktor set Yuuri down on the floor with Makkachin left at ‘Stay’ before he gradually reeled her in at the end of his outstretched arm. Yuuri’s reintroduction to their shared dog is one of less violence than Viktor had originally expected, and instead of bowling him over like he’s heard in the stories of their first introduction, the poodle is instead unexpectedly gentle and limited herself to only a few rather vigorous licks to the face that Yuuri tried in vain to shield himself from. After that she meandered off in the direction of her bowl to be served her brunch, seemingly satisfied with the situation. Yuuri and Viktor exchanged a grateful look before Viktor scooped Yuuri up into his arms again and carried him over to the breakfast bar. Yuuri wobbled a little when his feet hit the smooth marble and his claws scrabbled for purchase, then toppled over backwards. Viktor caught a glimpse of a shocked expression before it vanished behind tummy, Yuuri rolling over to push himself up in short and jerking movements that Viktor recognized all too well as symptoms of his nerves and embarrassment. Yuuri’s stubby tail hung low between his stubby legs as he turned around, his movements careful as he accustomed himself to the glossy finish. When he was back to facing Viktor there was a beautiful, familiar blush across his cheeks.

“…Po.”

“It’s okay, Yuuri. It’s not every day you get new legs.” Viktor was trying very hard to keep his voice level and calm but there was a large part of him that had given up on panicking and instead had begun to relax into the situation. That part was now struggling to keep down the urge to crush Yuuri into a hug like he did with the human version or Makkachin when they had done something particularly incredible or cute, but he doubted that Yuuri’s new frame could sustain the force.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked instead, itching for some distance to reduce the chance of a lack of self-control. 

Yuuri nodded his head slowly, then utilized his lower center of gravity and decades of experience on the ice to slowly skate his way along the bar to shadow Viktor as he made his way over to the standing fridge. Curses, he was so sweet.

“Do you feel like cereal? Do you think that you could eat that?”

Yuuri just looked at him incredulously, but he didn’t know what that meant. He spent a couple of moments wondering about the digestion of dog-people and how it would relate to dog digestion before he spent another couple of moments imagining Yuuri trying to either hold a spoon or avoid drowning in milk as he bobbed for corn flakes and it all made sense. 

“Ah. Bacon then?”

The effect of that statement was immense and immediate, eyes shining and poise anticipatory. Yuuri always had a fascination with bacon, but they very rarely could afford it in their diets. Viktor knew he could be more flexible in their off season, but even though they now had it in the house he remained solid on reduced intake, citing less grueling gym time once the time came to get back in the habit.

Yuuri was incredibly alert as he watched the rashers make their journey from the fridge to the pan, standing high on his toes to look into the frying pan, half-hidden behind the utensils jar to hide from spitting fat. There was a growing gurgle that began to echo in the quiet of the flat before Yuuri tucked himself in further to hide behind the pot, his tail clamped between his fuzzy legs. 

“Very hungry, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, a laugh in the back of his words because he was a dick and he couldn’t help it. He was rewarded with a grumpy face peeking round the side of the jar, eyebrows knitted and eyes burning in indignant fury.

“Po, po pocha.” 

Viktor didn’t need a translation for that one. 

There was a calm passed over the both of them as they waited and listened to the quiet whistles and pops in the pan, the eye of the storm. Viktor eventually got bored enough to tune into a radio station playing overly happy 80s pop, humming along to some of the tunes and occasionally singing along to a line or two in Russian. If there was nothing to do, the least he could do was try and stick to a normal routine while they figured it out.

They sat at the dining table where the wooden texture gave slightly better purchase for dog feet than polished stone, Yuuri with strips of bacon and an orange juice provisioned with a kid’s straw that Viktor had bought in bulk once in order to mess with Yuri, Viktor with a steaming coffee and a headful of complicated thoughts. 

He eventually got distracted by stubbornly attempting to persuade himself to not make a comment on the way that Yuuri clamped the bacon between his paws like a squirrel to nibble from the end, or how once he got into the business of eating and his mind wandered there came a _thump thump thump_ of a stubby tail hitting the table. 

In a moment of treachery, he found himself thinking that the new dog-Yuuri was just as cute as person-Yuuri. But then he was already a dog person and so was probably inherently biased.

After breakfast Yuuri was satisfied and ready to sleep off some of the terror of the morning, eventually falling asleep curled up in the corner of the sofa. Viktor was wide awake and mind a mile-a-minute, tapping away furiously on his laptop as he tried out as many search terms as he could think of, certain that if it could happen to them surely somebody in the history of humanity had encountered a similar problem.

**Man turned into half dog  
** Witch curse Russian folklore dog  
Human face dog body  
Human face dog body transformation -“invasion of the body snatchers”  
Human dog transformation  
Human dog transformation -werewolf 

The list grew and grew, getting fewer and fewer hits, getting further and further from what he was trying to ask. The internet had a lot of reports of weird goings on with dog bodies and every time Viktor let himself hope, but they were all fiction and there were none that were of even the slightest use. He’d already run out of classic fairytale cures after true loves kiss, he hadn’t been given some sort of cryptic riddle to solve, and none of the symptoms had any tangible relation to their original faux pas of going into the abandoned cabin. 

It all came to a dead end. 

He slammed his laptop shut in his frustration at the most recent article on dogs making human expressions. There was nothing. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes and his eyes snapped to Yuuri, still fast asleep and foot kicking in his dream. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, steeling his heart and wrestling the emotions back down into his chest. This was just starting, it was far too early to despair at this point. A long and ragged sigh ripped from him before he stood and stretched, writing out a quick note for Yuuri in large print that he left on the couch where he could find and read it, then collared an excitable Makkachin and clipped a leash to her, apologizing in quiet words for the delay but the search was something he could not have left until later.

The sharp sting of the wind on his face turned out to be just what the doctor ordered, and by the time he got back from their walk he could stand back from the situation a little and was leading a much more docile poodle back up the stairs.

Yuuri was awake and struggling with the buttons on the tv remote when they got back in, paw pads too big to navigate the controls and the fury etched into his features even as his movements stayed calm and collected. 

Makkachin yipped at him, and he looked up, blinking himself back to reality then smiled at her. Viktor unbuckled her and went to put away their outdoor gear, then stops halfway back across the room as he spots the stubby end of a pencil poking out of the cup that they keep by the noticeboard. He smiled to himself, fished it out and presented it to Yuuri like a knight presenting a sword to his liege lord, flat on his palm as he curved into a bow. Yuuri considered him for a long second before he shuffled forward to clamp the pencil between his paws, then carefully oriented it to be eraser-down and pointed at the buttons which pressed with a satisfying snick of static as he switched input.

Yuuri looked up at him then, smile thankful and eyes soft, and Viktor thought that maybe they could survive this okay until they found a way back.

The pencil is too unwieldy to write with any finesse, but he can very slowly press out messages on the laptop if he is very careful not to topple over onto the keys. 

“How are you feeling, Yuuri?” Viktor started with as he crowded in tight to the screen, anticipation mounting. 

_Fine bt scary_

He considered talking about the lack of help on the internet but decided against it. No news was good news, and it would hardly help their situation for Yuuri to know that they were apparently one of a kind. 

The silence lingered. He had so much he wanted to say and there was no priority he could settle on to get all the words out of his chest.

“You’ll be fine, I know it,” he said finally, the words sticking to his throat but full of all the truth he could gather. “You’ll be fine.” He felt the prickle of tears again, and this time one rolled down his cheek to tickle at his chin.

 _Ty. I love you_

Viktor broke then and gathered Yuuri up into his arms, not for a crushing hug this time but just to hold, all the weight of the little body supported in his arms. Yuuri’s nose nestled in the crook of his neck as they devolved into a mess of damp fur and hiccupping crying again, Viktor’s echo lost as he buried his face in his arm to try and staunch the flow. 

Eventually, they pulled apart, still a mess but another dam was broken. Yuuri kept his paw in the grip of Viktor’s hand when he was set down and shook his head when Viktor motioned to the pencil again.

“Too slow?”

Shake.

“But we know that it works if we’re in a pinch, yes?”

Yuuri nodded briefly then tucked himself back into Viktor’s side as they both came down from their emotional crescendo. 

When breathing was back to normal and faces felt less raw they spent the rest of the day making the house dog-boy friendly with ramps and stairs to the most useful destinations. After a meal cobbled together from the most paw-friendly ingredients they had to hand they settled down together in the living room to reflect. Viktor made a quick announcement on his Twitter and Instagram accounts of an impromptu off-season holiday to destinations undisclosed and watched the well-wishes flood in. Yuuri sat beside him, snuggled into Makkachin and oozing slowly back into sleep. 

Viktor’s own eyelids became heavy, and when he blinked the sun had set and the room was dark and shadowy. He was drowsy and his neck had stiffened from the awkward angle he was sitting at on the busy couch, instinctively reaching for the phone whose unwelcome light was blinding him in the darkness. 

His vague fumbling led his hand to land on something warm and fuzzy as a static shock zipped up his arm. Blinking awake to refocus revealed that he was holding Yuuri’s front right paw (still a strange concept for him to understand) and that the paw was indeed the source of the light.  
No that… that couldn’t be right. He shifted on the cushions to face Yuuri, the moving weight waking him into his customary post-nap grumbly mood. Viktor leant over further to get his face closer to the miracle paw as excitement began to buzz at the back of his mind. The glow was steady and bright, not blinding but unmistakable in the dim. It shone mostly through the thick leather of the pads, but there was light filtering through the hair of his foot all the way up to his first joint. Viktor turned the paw over slowly in his hand, admiring the shimmer of the light against his fingers, and watched as Yuuri woke and took in the situation in front of him. 

“Pocha?” he asked, his voice high in his confusion and rough from sleep. “Pocha?!”

“This could be it, Yuuri! This is our clue!” He was giddy from the hope and grasped both of Yuuri’s paws close to his chest in his joy.

“Cha!”

Neither of them really knew what to do with it. Viktor kissed all the pads individually, Yuuri tried holding it up like he was He-Man, nothing. Soon enough the enthusiasm ran out and they retreated to the bedroom, exhausted. 

Viktor trudged to the shower with the weight on his shoulders. Yuuri had brushed his teeth and was getting ready for bed, neither of them quite comfortable with figuring out how he was going to wash himself that night. As Viktor toweled himself down after his shower there was a quiet growling from the direction of the bed, and he shot out of the room, still damp, to be confronted with the sight of Yuuri with his hoodie upended over his face and wriggling flat on his back. 

It took a lot of hushing and gentle coaxing for Yuuri to let Viktor peel the collar over his head, the heat of the blush spreading across his cheeks palpable. Neither of them says anything, but they know exactly what each other was thinking and the conversation lay thick between them. 

Viktor stalked silently from the bedroom to their store cupboard and pulled out a box of old dog paraphernalia. There was a smaller box inside of puppy supplies, and he crowed an “aha!” when he pulled out the tiny collars and old Halloween costumes to find his prize – little mittens he had got for when she was coming back in from the snow. Makkachin had hated them and they fell almost immediately into disuse but here they remained in Viktor’s obsessive stash of everything of his poodle’s.

“Guess what I found?” he trilled as he re-entered the bedroom, holding a mitten above his head. Yuuri just stared at him, confused, until Viktor knelt by the bed and gently slipped the glove over Yuuri’s glowing paw and tied it firm. Yuuri looked at it and Viktor several times before he leapt forwards to give Viktor a rather brusque kiss propelled by his momentum. Viktor thought he would melt on the spot, and when he recovered from the surprise he stilled and held Yuuri’s face between his palms for a long minute to feel the love burn warm in his whole being.

“Goodnight, my love. We’ll fix this.” 

Yuuri made a contented yip back at him and brought a paw up to touch his hand. The contrasting sadness flowed over the two of them at the same time. It was cold enough to burn as well, wearing Viktor down until all he had left was a bone-deep weariness. 

He flicked the bedside lamp off and flipped over to curl around the tiny form of Yuuri, closing his eyes and ready to fall asleep and wake up to everything having been a bad dream. There was light at the edges of his awareness as he settled into the sheet. He’d left a light on somewhere in the room and he couldn’t adjust to the twilight. Damn it. He cracked an eye to check that Yuuri’s mitten was still on fine, which it was, and Yuuri looked to be staring into the middle distance, lost in thought and uncaring of pesky lights and moving bedfellows. He resigned himself to leaving the sanctuary of the bed and flipped the thin bed sheet back as he slid over to the side of the bed, startled as there was a sudden increase in luminescence. 

That’s not…

He looked down and found the source of the light – somewhere between his legs that was throwing his genitals into sharp silhouette. 

Blink once, blink twice.

It was still there. 

He leant over to nudge Yuuri awake. The nudge became shakes and hurried exclamations when he parted his legs and saw the brightness increase. It was coming from him for sure, it even moved when he shuffled around the mattress. Viktor bounded over to their full-length mirror and spread his cheeks to it as Yuuri came out of his thought bubble.

“Yuuri wake up we got another clue!” And Yuuri woke up. “My asshole glows just like your hand does!” 

Even as he said it, he couldn’t believe it, but there it was, clear as day. He wondered if he was getting hysterical, he could feel the laughter begin to bubble in his chest. 

Yuuri was up to the edge of the bed in a flash, peering across at him in the dark. Viktor span around to bounce back over to him, bursting with confidence that this was going to be what fixed them. He could feel it in his bones (and in his butt).

He got on all fours and crawled to the middle of the bed then reached back to pull a cheek apart so that Yuuri would get the full force of the effect. 

“Do you see it, Yuuri?” he asked. “It’s got to be related, right?”

“Pooooooo!” Yuuri exhaled behind him. “Po pocha!”

He turned round to see Yuuri’s face lit up in the gentle lamp of his butt. There was a strange embarrassment crept over him for being spread out like that. Yuuri and he were certainly familiar with each other by that point and had been very thorough in exploring each other but it was different being out of the moment and looking on in an almost clinical manner.

He felt Yuuri’s paw touch the outside of his thigh as he leaned closer and it felt like he had been struck by lightning; the burning that roared through his veins, the tremor that shook his whole body with the force of their connection, the electric energy that lingered in him afterwards. He gasped and buckled onto his elbows, ass still high in the air.

“What was… what did you do, Yuuri?”

He craned his neck to look back just in time to see Yuuri raise an arm from where he had flinched back and wordlessly reapply his paw to Viktor’s leg, his eyes locked to Viktor’s and searing with determination. 

The touch this time was a little more inward, a little higher, a little more pressing. The shock was just as abrupt as before but the effect was greatly diminished – to the point where Yuuri’s paw remained in contact enough for him to start a gentle stroke upwards towards the point source. As the distance closed the effects grew stronger again until he was shivering and curled up again with his muscles rippling with tension. The light burned brighter too, and Viktor watched the wax and wane in the shadows of the room as Yuuri began to play with moving his paw first closer and then further away, his paw now hovering just off from Viktor’s skin where he could still feel the effects of their proximity. The height little Yuuri could reach was heavily moderated by the short length of Yuuri’s arms and therefore couldn’t get overly close, but Viktor was intensely aware of the way that shivers ran up his spine whenever the light got brighter and left a smoldering warmth in his vertebrae that stayed as the brightness dimmed. He chanced a look behind him to see Yuuri’s face brought starkly into relief by the gleam and contrasting vividly against the deep, dark shadows behind him. It was still Yuuri’s face even if he was a little rounder, a bit smaller, and it was still his Yuuri in there.

And he trusted Yuuri with all his heart.

“Yuuri, it’s ok. Can you… uh… can you touch it?” he asked. He tried so desperately to keep his voice level; it was extraordinarily mild compared to some of the acts they had got up to in this room but in their new situation even a simple non-sexual examination seemed like the lewdest thing that Viktor had ever asked of him. He turned back to face the front and buried his head in his arms. He was overwhelmed with gratitude for the dim light so that he could hide the furious blush that rose at his request.

There was a moment of stillness where Viktor was certain that Yuuri had become suddenly disgusted at him, then tiny sounds of movement and he felt a tap then a touch against his left inner thigh. He let their contact assuage some of his fears, that of course, Yuuri would help if he ever wanted to be a human again.

There was a scrabbling scratching further up his right leg, just where his buttock curved into his thigh, swiftly followed by a deep press on the bed, and Viktor understood in a flash.

“Yuuri?” he called, curled round to face behind him to be presented with the sight of Yuuri lain back on the bed, fuzzy white limbs flailing uselessly as his paw shone in the night, high above his head like a glow-stick wielded by a furiously enthusiastic raver. Viktor struggled not choke the laughter that rose in him as Yuuri calmed himself and carefully folded himself back into a sit.

“Did you try to jump for it?”

“Pocha,” Yuuri replied, the warning loud on his face. 

“I’ve told you to work on your jumps, Yuuri. You need to be sure of your footing before you go for one, and a duvet hardly counts!” He could feel that this wasn’t the time, not really, but it was just too tempting. That and Yuuri couldn’t be nervous if he was too busy being angry.

“POOOOOOOCHA!” 

Yuuri looked furious now, paws balled into fists and bottom lip held between teeth as he fumed. It was just as adorable as ever, and Viktor crawled back over to brush his palm along Yuuri’s cheek, his thumb brushing soft along a cushioned cheekbone while he whispered sweet nothings close into his ear.

The angry fire dimmed in Yuuri’s eyes until there was only stern determination left there.

“Let’s see what happens.”

“Cha.” 

Viktor arranged himself as well as he could to make things easier for Yuuri and settled out on to lounge on his back spread-eagled with a pillow wedged under his hips to provide some elevation. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view and adjusted himself against to be comfortable against the headboard.

“I’m ready if you are,” he said, still feeling unusually exposed but the hope worked for him to calm and relax him. Whatever happened could hardly get more unusual than it already had, so surely following the breadcrumbs would lead them to the exit.

“Pocha,” Yuuri said in reply, his face firm as he readied himself, staring intently at his glowing limb and Viktor’s luminescent anus. His white fur gleamed in the pale yellow illumination, looking glossy and healthy, and there was a soft _tump, tump_ as his little tail beat slowly against the unruly bedding. 

It had been a very strange day in all respects.

He watched the movement of Yuuri’s throat as he swallowed before he closed the slim distance between them, and watched the slight tremble in the paw that slowly reached out towards him.

As Yuuri’s paw neared its target Viktor felt the electric charge rise in him again until he was flushed and trying not to squirm. Yuuri paused just before he finally put his paw down and they both remained completely still and not even daring to breathe as the anticipation and dread swamped the whole room. There was a passing moment when Viktor could not even be certain what he hoped would happen; a passing wish that it would be the kiss to the frog and Yuuri would immediately turn back for a rather R18 fairytale ending.

And then they touched.

Viktor was immediately overwhelmed as excitement surged through him, heat and arousal prickling his skin as he began to sweat and pant, head thrown back and back arching away from the touch even as Yuuri pressed harder against his hole to remove his chance of escape.

It was incredible, impossible. 

He was on edge instantly, his cock filling with blood faster than he could remember even from his terrible puberty-ridden youth. He shook from the sparks still shooting through his nervous system and looked down the length of his shivering body to see Yuuri rapt with concentration and lit so brightly it was as if by a spotlight, expression something close to awe as he watched Viktor twitch himself hard until he was fully erect and standing free, writhing against his paw. Yuuri himself seemed to be suffering some of the effects that were ruining Viktor, or at least that is what Viktor would have to assume from the little panting breaths that he can hear, and how they had only been increasing in rate. There was the way he leant over, bend in his elbow and a shake in his knees. Any heat in his face had been washed out by the light but his eyes were hungry as he licked his lips.

The desire was heavy in the air, and when Yuuri’s arm slipped so that the edge of a rough but soft-cushioned pad grazed across the rim of his sphincter Viktor moaned loud as his arms failed and he fell back down on the bed as the fluffy hair around the pad began to tickle at his sensitive rim. 

Yuuri finally pulled back enough that he left Viktor’s skin and the sudden loss of stimulation seemed another stimulation in itself; a high-pitched keen pouring from the back of Viktor’s throat and finding its match in Yuuri’s quiet, thin whine. 

With the worst of the barrage of sensation passed Viktor struggled to get himself back under control enough to make full sentences with the adrenaline still running high in his veins. Could a person simply short circuit? 

He struggled back up to a lax sitting position, achingly aware of his hardness and racing heart rate but too intent on Yuuri’s state to give it too much thought.

Yuuri was sitting down between Viktor’s legs, his front paws pushed down on his front at his groin and face aflame. His tongue hung out through his quick pants and eyes narrowed in frustration and embarrassment.

Viktor could read between the lines. He most definitely was not the only one affected by that touch, and that fact calmed him somewhat, made him feel less like a sexual deviant for whatever witchcraft he had been affected with alongside Yuuri if they both had this symptom. He didn’t know what he would have done if he was the only one struggling with a sexual side effect.

“I… are you alright?” he asked, his throat far too dry already. This was some potent hoodoo. 

Yuuri looked up at him warily through his shaggy fringe and curled further in on himself. When Viktor tried to stroke the fur on his shoulder Yuuri shied away from him a little, and the barest growl was audible over Viktor’s surprised gasp. 

“I’m sorry Yuuri, but I think that we both know where we need to go from here.” At this, Yuuri looked back down, rolling a stubby leg back and fore as he chewed his lip in thought. 

Yuuri suddenly shook his head as if to clear it and met Viktor’s eyes, holding up a paw, pad up, as if to shake. His expression was almost as confused and concerned as Viktor felt, and when Viktor put his hand on top of Yuuri’s paw he was shaken off before Yuuri trailed a touch down the back of Viktor’s hand.

“Oh! You’re worried about your claws?” The revelation made Viktor nervous in turn and he had to focus his thoughts very, very securely on the end goal.

“I’m certain that won’t be an issue, Yuuri. I trust you to be careful, and they’re very blunt.” He gave it as much charisma and bravado as he could muster and Yuuri looked relieved at the reassurance, even though the tension didn’t leave them entirely.

“I’ll get overly ready, Yuuri,” Viktor said, his voice soft. “Don’t worry.”

With that, he scrambled over to their bedside drawer, slowly and awkwardly thanks to his stiffness, and pulled out the bottle of lube that they kept there. He positioned himself similarly to before and poured a long puddle onto his hand, then capped the bottle and set it carefully next to him on the bed. There was a lot going to be needed for Yuuri as well, and the thought of it sent a nervous prickle down the back of his neck. 

With his hand sufficiently slick he set to work.

He was still sufficiently aroused that he relaxed against his touch easily, rubbing lightly around the ring before he slowly pressed his index in, the block of his hand throwing the room further into shadow. The sudden dark woke Yuuri up from the depths of thought that he had been lost in and Viktor was sharply aware of the concentration that Yuuri was giving to the motion of his fingers. 

If he had an audience it was only courtesy to provide a show, and so he made the motions more languid than he had a need to, dragging his finger in and out tortuously slowly to watch from the corner of his eye as Yuuri let himself be enthralled to the point of leaning towards him, one paw out in front of him to give him balance while the other one worked at his front out of Viktor’s sight. The view only egged Viktor on as he teased his hole with his middle finger before plunging the two in together, giving out an over-done groan as he did so. Yuuri would never be fooled, but the theatricality didn’t seem to be discouraging him.

He thrust into himself steadily, gradually picking up the pace before he slowed his movement gradually, the excess lube sliding cool down the back of his hand, then scissoring his fingers open to feel the stretch. He stopped short.

This opening of his asshole had caused light to burst forth from it into the room to land directly on the small canine body of Yuuri in front of him, directly in the center of the beam. 

Neither of them could move.

The super trouper of Viktor’s ass just glared on. He was too shocked to even remove his hand and close the aperture, instead focused on the way that Yuuri’s jaw dropped open, an arm coming up to shield himself from the view as though he was looking directly into the sun.

Yuuri’s shoulders shook slightly before he sank to all fours and began making a snuffling yip, his face nearly to the covers as he curled in on himself. Viktor panicked at his reaction and quickly removed his hand, plunging them into darkness now their night vision had been compromised. He fumbled for what to do to help, settling with threading his clean hand through Yuuri’s thick hair and brushing through it.

“Yuuri? Yuuri, what’s wrong?” he asked and he could hear the fear in his tone, but Yuuri just shook his head gently and leaned into the touch, the yipping quieting down gradually.

Oh. He was laughing. 

Viktor relaxed all at once like someone had cut his strings, flopping backwards and letting the giggles take over him and re-infect Yuuri until they were both laughing whole-heartedly – or more Viktor was laughing and Yuuri was making oddly human barking noises – letting the fantastical nonsensical absurdity wash over them and clean away their trepidation.

Eventually, they were quiet, and Viktor sat up to a soft touch on his ankle. Yuuri was standing patiently with his paw alight and aloft, a small doggy Statue of Liberty. Viktor couldn’t help but smile.

He arranged himself as before, lubricated his hand again and set back to work. One finger, two fingers, three. He worked himself open faster and without show now that the initial rush from their paw-to-butt contact had drained out of his system and he was intent only on getting to the main event as quickly as possible. He was still somewhat hard but flagging, and there was no movement on Yuuri’s end to indicate he was any different.

“I think I’m ready, Yuuri,” he called out eventually; it was difficult to tell what exactly was needed so he’d stretched a little more than was probably necessary. “It’s time for you now.”

“Pocha.”

“Come here, you.”

He could see Yuuri pad his way closer in the twilight, and quickly wiped his fingers off on a tissue so he could maneuver open the lube once more. Yuuri looked up at him with eyes full of trust and love as he presented his glowing paw to Viktor, and he watched attentively as Viktor slathered his arm with the liquid. 

Just watching himself apply it with the full knowledge of what was about to happen made butterflies rise up from his stomach to Viktor’s throat, their fluttering filling his chest until it felt tight to breathe. But it would be fine, he’d told Yuuri they’d be fine so he had to believe it himself. He was careful around the pads, marveled at the softness of his fur before he wetted it flat, watched the glow burn brighter as the water-thinned the hairs. He was doubly careful around Yuuri’s nubby, dull claws and ran a thumb over them gently just to prove to himself how harmless they were. At the angle that they would be going in at there was little chance of them catching anything anyway.

Now that did send a nervous trickle of adrenaline through his system.

Satisfied that he had done as much as possible to ease the process he eased himself back, reaching underneath himself to pull one ass cheek further out and give Yuuri better access, and then spent the rest of his attention on staying still and anticipating the oncoming tide.

He was not disappointed, and when Yuuri first touched him, the flat of his paw against Viktor’s ready and waiting entrance, the same crushing aching horniness flooded through him, less intense than before but still enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He took his cock in his hand for the first time that night as he gave himself a few long, slow, tight strokes as he crested the wave, but when Yuuri shifted to line up the edge of his paw the feeling didn’t ease or worsen, only stayed the same constant aching longing as the room lit up around them. 

He could just make out Yuuri’s face above his own straining cock, and he drank in the way his eyes had closed in his pleasure, his eyebrows knotted together and mouth open for tiny pants. 

Yuuri began by hooking the nubs of his claws into the ring so they would be safely out of the way when he began to push in. Viktor was hyper-aware of all the ridges of his knuckles and pads as he pushed through the initial resistance, the sensation peaking just before his paw as a whole was through and he was lodged up to the joint, when the zapping craving that had threatened to shake him apart settled instead into a tingling warm buzz that spread through his whole body, still ratcheting up but not searing, bearable in its intensity. He could feel the counters of Yuuri’s paw still even as he stayed unmoving. 

The girth of Yuuri’s dog arm was wide, wider than his human cock but not enough to be a struggle or tear, and Viktor took his time to relax and accept the intrusion. Yuuri was completely still and a sharp incisor had drawn a drop of blood from the bottom of his lip as he bit it. Their connection seems to get infinitesimally brighter when Yuuri slides a fraction further in, looking up for permission which he gets in the form of a hand sliding through his hair again and a wan smile. 

When Yuuri pushes further in Viktor can't help his full-bodied tremor or the way that he arches, threatening to either dislodge Yuuri entirely or pull him up off the bed. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, the wet fur brushing backwards to resist the movement, rippling against his anus and tickling his innards. The alien, almost ribbed feeling of the hair combined with the building pressure of arousal coming from their magical imbuement that grew and grew as Yuuri inched ever inward. 

Slowly, patiently Yuuri advanced until he was in as far as he could, shoulder jammed between buttocks, Viktor’s pleasure feeling like his blood was too full, his body straining to pop, and he loved it. Yuuri was naturally wider the further in he went and they paused again, revelling in the charge that flowed and sparked between them before Yuuri gradually pulled his arm back out, the fur smoothing flat and sleek in a startling change of texture that sent Viktor that little bit closer. Yuuri paused when his wrist was at the cusp again and looked long into Viktor’s eyes before he drove home again, with more power this time, the strength it took from that small body evident in the intense concentration of his face. Viktor just caught sight of Yuuri’s left arm slipping down to his own cock, bright pink and peeking out from the thick white coat, then the feeling of ruffled velvet deep in him took over his senses and he collapsed back on the bed, his hands reaching to grasp at any purchase they could reach.  
He was close, so close, as the arm smoothed to gloss again and pulled back. His own arm felt heavy when he raised it to grip his cock with a sigh for the small amount of relief it gave. There were small grunting growls in the air, soft “po, po” sounds coming from the tiny body working him so hard against the resistance of his body, but Viktor was too full to manage more than staccato huffs of air when Yuuri pushed deepest, punching them from him until he couldn't even manage that and all that was left was a pathetic keening that came in scraps as he gasped in rhythm with the incredibly lewd slurps and sloshes. 

Yuuri shifted then, changed his angle with his arm straight in care to not let his claws scrape, and everything in Viktor screamed. The circuit complete, the switch pressed in, he felt the crescendo hit him like a physical force and his vision filled with a white flash that blinded him. 

Yuuri was immediately gone from within him, and the small part of his mind still functioning through the surge felt the cold and emptiness fill him in place of warmth.  
It was a sensation that he concentrated on to come back down, although the after-image of the light stayed on his retinas all the while. He seemed to be in true darkness now, but when he reached forward to where Yuuri should have been there was nothing. The heavy, sated breaths gave way to nervous gasping as he desperately patted around the end of the bed where his fiancé had been. 

Had they been terribly mistaken? Was this a further punishment for the ease at which they had come to this course of action? 

“Yuuri?” he called into the red and yellow-tinged darkness, eyes still burning from the light and now beginning to itch with tears. “Yuuri, love, are you there?”

He was answered immediately by a grunt, a small distance further than the edge of the bed, and he scrambled over as fast as his orgasm-weak limbs could carry him. 

There was a faint outline visible in the gloom; the outline of Yuuri, his Yuuri, his human Yuuri! 

Viktor near broke his neck as he tumbled from the bed in his haste, hands on the satin smooth skin in an instant, damp with sweat cloying to its surface and the only hair faint and thin and so achingly familiar. 

Viktor did feel the tears come now, and he buried his face into Yuuri’s chest, hard with muscle and enveloping him easily as he was crushed into a hug.  
“Viktor, Viktor, I'm back, right?” Yuuri’s voice was pitched high as though he could hardly believe it himself, and there was a tremble in his hold and droplets on the back of Viktor’s neck. 

“Yes, Yuuri, you're back. You're alright,” Viktor said, and as the words left his lips he began to finally believe it. 

“I don't know what happened, Viktor. It was like I was electrocuted or something, and I was thrown back and everything burned and then…”

“Shhh, Yuuri, don't worry about it. You're back now, it's all fine.”

“Can we never talk about this?” Yuuri’s voice was whisper-quiet, echoed by Viktor’s tiny “Never.”

They curled closer to each other, and Viktor gradually became aware of a stickiness across his back where Yuuri’s arm encircled him, right up to his shoulder. He forced himself not to think about it and focus just on the shaking, shell-shocked body before him.

They didn't bother cleaning up the mess they had made, just crawled into the bed and held each other in silence until the fatigue of the day claimed them. 

Years passed, and they never changed again, never glowed, never found what the curse was supposed to teach them if anything. It became a secret shared between the two of them (and Makkachin) and the gap in their display case where once sat a stuffed toy in a blue hoodie and white cap. 

Somewhere out in the woods and wilds of Russia, an old, old witch relaxed into the comfort of her solitude, silence stretching out from her, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> No I shall not explain myself.


End file.
